


Love and War

by DayandKnight



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/F, F/M, What Have I Done, escort AU, except there is a plot, porn without a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayandKnight/pseuds/DayandKnight
Summary: In a North City known more for it's night life than military and where Fort Briggs is the hottest new club, anything can happen. And, when lonely bachelor Buccaneer hires an escort, it does.





	1. The Interview

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Illidria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/gifts).



> Hello lovelies!
> 
> If you know me at all, you know I love starting new fics and letting my old fics stew. I'm not giving up on any of them, just writing what I feel like. I hope y'all understand. :)
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Illidria who inspires me, helps me workshop all my fics, and is my biggest cheerleader. ILY!

Women were  _ not _ his forte; this, Buccaneer had long known. Still, he was flushing a bright tomato red, he was sure, as Madame Lust slid him a stack of papers, resting a pen that perfectly matched her deep red lipstick on top. 

“Read it carefully, Mister Buccaneer. I do not take breaches lightly.” 

He nodded and scrawled his name in the appropriate place at the top of the form. He could hardly believe he was really in a brothel parlor, hiring a full-service escort for the night, and if all went well, for the foreseeable future. When he’d first come to North City the idea of renting company had been foreign to him, almost unthinkable, but as his business had taken off the loneliness combined with the sheer prevalence of sex workers from street corners to the glitzy, high-end brothel he was currently sitting in persuaded him. 

“At your tier of membership,” the madame’s silky voice interrupted his musing, “you’ll have access to our most  _ willing  _ girls, so you need only sign the first two pages.” 

Right, he was meant to be signing a contract. He refocused his attention on the page before him. It began with the requirements for clients, the negative STD test he had already submitted, it was required to even get in the door afterall, and he initialled as he read, agreeing to use condoms, gloves, and dental dams as appropriate, that he understood payment was due before every service, and that services could be discontinued at any time with or without warning. 

Flipping the page, he found a list of forbidden activities; the few things an escort would not be willing to do. His stomach twisted nervously as he read. Some of the items on the list were shocking to him, at least that they needed saying, such as cutting, burning, or breaking any of the escort’s bones. Others, he genuinely didn’t know what they were. Well, certainly he wasn’t going to be doing anything too crazy. He initialled his way down the page and signed the bottom. He pushed it across the desk back to the madame along with his credit card.

“Excellent,” she took them, checked the signatures, and swiped his card. His stomach exploded in butterflies when she smiled at him, “let’s go meet some girls, shall we?” 

He followed her through the black door at the back of the office, while Miles excused himself to wait in the lobby with a silent nod. The place exuded sleek glamour with it’s vaulted ceilings and sparkling chandeliers, black and red color scheme, and mirrored walls. His heart skipped a beat when they stepped through the anteroom into a lobby that was utterly different from the one his bodyguard was now waiting in. 

Everywhere he looked there were beautiful women in scanty lingerie and painfully high heels. Some looked as though they were waiting, others were blatantly lounging on the leather sofas and furry poufs. 

Madame Lust cleared her throat, “let’s make Mister Buccaneer feel welcome, ladies.” 

He flushed harder as the women obeyed, lining up on a raised dais in the center of the room, posing seductively or else winking at him. He swallowed as he looked from one to the next, dazzled by the smiles, the lace and ribbon, expanses of flawless skin in all shades, and glittering jewels. Then he saw  _ her,  _ he knew in a heartbeat she was the one he wanted to “interview” as the madame had called it, a blonde haired woman with deep blue eyes and curves like he’d never seen. 

“Olivier caught your eye?” 

He wasn’t aware he was that obvious, but he must have been because as soon as the madame spoke the woman who had taken his breath away was stepping off the dias and moving toward him, a confident smile on her full lips, and a steadiness in knife-like shoes that amazed him. 

“Uhhh,” he cleared his throat after a moment of nonsensical noise, “y-yeah.”

Her small, perfect, hand slipped into his prosthetic one without hesitation, “well, come on Big Guy.” He followed her silently through one of several identical doors on the far side of the room. “First time?”

“Uhh,” he wanted to sink into the floor, why wasn’t his stupid brain working? “Yeah. No! I mean, my first time with a--um, someone like you--not my first time ever.”

“Right,” she was watching him, something like amusement on her face, “how about you sit down and I fix you a drink?”

This time he didn’t try to answer, just nodded and padded across the thick carpet to sit on the luxurious king-sized bed that was the undeniable focal point of the room. Olivier crossed to a small bar cart and poured two glasses of wine without asking his preference, though he doubted he could have told her if she had. Her strappy black lingerie covered even less in the back than the front and when she bent to grab the wine from the bottom of the cart, he’d had to bite his lip to suppress an embarrassing moan. 

She smiled knowingly as she walked back to him, handing over one of the glasses and resting her hand on his thigh. “So, Big Guy, what did you have in mind?”

His mouth was dry and he swallowed experimentally a few times. She arched perfect brows and waited. “Uh, I’m not really sure. I kinda thought we could just try things out, experiment, you know?”

“Of course.” She sipped her wine and then in a move so smooth he couldn’t quite grasp it, she swung herself up onto the mattress to straddle his lap, resting her weight on her knees and hovering over him. “There are lots of reasons people turn to escorts; some to show off, others because their lifestyle doesn’t allow them time for a relationship, but they want companionship.” She downed the rest of her wine and set the glass somewhere, he neither knew nor cared where. “Some want to be pushed around, told what to do, others want to do the pushing. So, really, anything goes. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”  

“I-” she was so gorgeous, he could feel the heat radiating off her nearly bare body and he didn’t know what he wanted, just that he wanted more. 

She looked him up and down, then patted his chest gently, “drink your wine. You’ll feel better.” He obeyed, surprised by how easy it was to listen to her. She ran the back of her hand along his cheek and took the glass, which joined the other in unknown regions. 

“Now what?” The warmth was beginning to spread through him.

He thought her smile was more of a smirk as she planted her hands firmly on his chest and pushed him onto his back. He was practically giddy with the feel of her as she crawled over him.

“You can touch me, you know.”

He swallowed and slowly reached up to grip her hips, her skin was softer than even than the silk bedding. She was warm and soft and  _ real. _ Her lips lowered to kiss him softly, trailing down his neck and gathering bite as she went, nipping at the place where his shirt collar stopped her journey. He fumbled with unwieldy buttons, but she shook her head, nimble fingers undoing his shirt, undoing him, with an ease he could only imagine. Skin slid against skin as she slithered down his body, kisses and bites leaving red both lipstick and nearly-broken flesh down his chest, until her feet hit the ground with a soft thump and she palmed him through trousers that strained to contain him. 

“Eager, are we?”

His only response was to push himself up on his elbows to watch her, undoing his fly without hesitation, and lifting his hips to help her tug the trousers down and out of the way. Even the way she rolled a condom onto him, pausing to shoot him a wink, was downright seductive. He could barely stand to watch her take his hard, throbbing, cock into her mouth. He tilted his head back, gasped wordless praises to the gauzy red canopy, too lost in pleasure to care how he looked or sounded. He came far too soon, it had been far too long and her tongue was magical, and he was panting and groaning, hips stuttering as she moved away. 

The used condom went the way of the wine glasses and she rose, smirking down at him, somehow as flawless as before. “Did that untie your tongue?” 

He shook his head, honest and awestruck, and she laughed slightly. The sound sent shivers down his spine, and he groaned. She laughed harder, though he thought not unkindly. With his shirt unbuttoned and hanging open, his pants somewhere on the floor, he felt suddenly exposed, but he had no time to worry about it as she gestured for him move back. He settled himself on the pillows and watched her saunter around the bed, fiddling with the back of her bra, or else tugging at the garters holding her dark stockings up. 

She caught the bedpost at the foot of the bed and swung herself up and around. Every movement was controlled, powerful muscles making themselves known as she twisted and turned. He missed what became of her shoes as she balanced on the edge of the bed in stockinged feet, undoing her garter belt and inching it slowly down her legs.   

It was torture, the slow way she moved her hands over her body and turned away when she reached her bra, lithe fingers pulling slowly at strings. She winked at him over her shoulder and he bit his lip so hard he tasted blood when she slowly turned back, the lace garment falling onto the bed. Her breasts were round and full and he wanted nothing more than to fill his hands with them. She remained at the end of the bed, however, peeling her high stockings off, one at a time and maddeningly slowly. 

He was already growing hard again as she pivoted around the pole on the end of the bed, coming to a stop once again with her back to him. The teasing continued as she hooked her hands thumbs in the back of the lace panties and inches them down only to stop and smirk at him. After what felt an eternity she shimmied them off, letting him revel in the sight of her firm, perfect, backside. Unthinking, he held out a hand and she tossed the panties to him.

“Ready, Big Guy?”

He nodded eagerly and she moved to straddle him, her weight resting on his thighs. This time he needed no coaxing to touch her, reaching for breasts that felt even better than he had hoped. She reached behind his head and grabbed another condom, rolling on with ease. Polished nails lightly scratched at his balls before she rose on her knees and hovered over him. Her thumb swiped over his head as she gripped him, lining his tip up.

He couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure when she lowered herself onto him and didn’t care to. His hands roamed her body, encouraged by her moans and gasps, grasping and pinching at perfect, pliant, flesh. She braced herself on his chest, and her nails scraped red lines across it. He was panting, hot and heady with pleasure, wanting more and more. His vision was growing blurry, spots blocking Olivier’s thrown back head and perfect breasts from view. 

His thrusts, like his breathing, became erratic and then the edge overcame him and he couldn’t think or breathe, too lost in pleasure. Awareness came back slowly, and he found Olivier was draped over him, bright eyes watching him. 

She patted his chest gently, “I’d say that went well, wouldn’t you?” 

Later, he didn’t remember getting dressed or being led out to the lobby by a robe-clad Olivier, too distracted by the pleasant fatigue and warm glow of sex. The smirk and “good time?” from Miles he did remember, but when he put his hand in his pocket later he  _ really  _ wasn’t sure when or why he’d thought it a good idea to pocket the escort’s underwear.

\---

The brothel was quiet this early in the day, most of the girls sleeping off the previous night’s revelry but Olivier had an early job and didn’t like to mess with getting ready at home. Her dressing station already had clear plastic garment bags hanging in it, so she assumed Solaris had left them the night before. The opening door, however, proved her wrong.

The madame was dressed in a long red robe, her hair in curlers, and a mug of coffee in her hand, but she smiled as she approached. “I do love how you look in the morning, my dear.”

“Oh?” Wearing only a mens’ shirt and flipflops, with her hair in a loose bun wasn’t a sellable look, but Solaris had adopted the moniker “Lust” for a reason.

“Mmhm,” Solaris gave her a long once over, “you have such lovely legs and-” she squeezed Olivier’s backside playfully, “-this shirt rides up when you lean in to do your makeup.”

Olivier rolled her eyes, but without malice. “If I had the time, I’d take a break and we could have some fun, heaven knows Raven’s going to do nothing for me.” 

“He is a predictable one, isn’t he?”

Olivier finished the last swipe of lipstick and straightened, nodding. “I can already tell you how today will go: he’ll have me dance for whatever other old coot he’s meeting with today, come up with some reason to light my ass up in front of his guests, and then fuck me once they leave. He’ll last all of two minutes and need to feed his fetish for humiliation by controlling every move and then he’ll need a nap as soon as I leave.”

Solaris laughed, “I thought you liked a good spanking?”

“I  _ do,  _ it’s just a pity he isn’t any good at it.”

“Well, next time you see him, plan to see me after; I’ll make up for it.”

“Next time?”

“You have another appointment right after, dear. I left enough time for a quick change, but that’s it.”

Olivier glanced at the bags again, unbuttoning her shirt to begin changing, the skimpy schoolgirl outfit had given away her first client, but the shimmery dress beneath told her nothing. “Who with?”

Solar’s eyes were fixed on her as the oversized shirt dropped to the ground. “Buccaneer, you met him the other week, with the mohawk-”

“I remember him,” Olivier stooped to pull a red thong, one of Raven’s favorites, out of her drawer. “He stole my panties. They were comfortable ones, too.”

“Don’t look so sour, I’ll buy you more.” Solaris set down her mug to aid Olivier in fastening the matching bra. “He didn’t give me any preferences yet, so I just picked you something I like. If he has any taste, he will too.”

Olivier pulled on thigh-high stocking and set to work shimmying into the tiny plaid skirt. “Speaking of taste, no chance you can get me a less...questionable skirt?”

“Anything longer and he complains.”

She nodded, reaching for the sheer blouse that barely managed to tie under her ample chest. “Sounds about right.”

“If you don’t want to see him anymore-”

“It’s fine,” Olivier waved a hand dismissively, “he pays well and he doesn’t really bother me. Just a pervy old man, and that’s most of our clientele anyway.”

“Fair enough,” Solaris took her mug back off the dressing table, “well, dear, I’ve got to get some work done, but remember what I said about next time.”

She grinned, “I’ll hold you to it.” 


	2. Fort Briggs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 
> 
> I have another chapter for y'all. Please enjoy.

The meeting with Raven went exactly as predicted and her ass was still stinging as she redressed and headed to Fort Briggs for her next job. He wasn’t exactly a new client, and she was sure she’d visited the Drachman club before, but her stomach still tightened with nerves as she thanked her driver, who assured her he’d be waiting just outside the club, and headed inside. 

Under a thick fur coat, she wore a silver mesh dress that hugged her curves, and whose many glittering rhinestones did nothing to hide her lack of bra and small grey panties. She hoped Buccaneer didn’t have a heart attack on the spot. The club was still closed, only staff members eyeing her as she looked around for the bear-sized man.

“Miss Olivier?” 

She turned and found herself being addressed by a good looking security guard in a suit and dark glasses, silver hair pulled back into a pineapple-esque ponytail. “Yes, though most don’t call me Miss.”

He smiled, “Buccaneer is expecting you.” He gestured toward an unmarked door near the bar, “right through there.”

She nodded and crossed the dance floor, her glittering shoes clicking loudly with every step, and knocked. Buccaneer called for her to enter and she did, fixing a seductive smile in place. The big man was sitting behind a large wood desk, an open ledger before him.

“Oh! I didn’t realize it was that time yet. Please make yourself comfortable; there’s a coat rack behind you if you’d like to put up your coat.”

She smiled wider, opening her coat wide and watching his face go red. “You look-” his eyes swept over her and he swallowed, “ _ wow. _ ” 

She didn’t need to look at herself in the long mirrored wall behind him to know what prompted the response, but had to suppress an amused smile as she turned to hang up the coat. “Thanks, Big Guy.” She sauntered around the desk and spun the leather desk chair to face her, planting a knee between his thighs and leaning in. His pupils dilated and she grinned, “ready to have some fun?”

“Y-yes.” He wasn’t any more eloquent than at their first meeting, but he was a bit more confident, rising up to kiss her. “We can- over there,” he made a somewhat flailing gesture to a leather sofa on the far end of the office, “-or here. Whatever.” 

He seemed to like it when she took control, so she weighed her options, surveying the office. Other than the desk and sofa, there weren’t much, but the mirrored wall certainly gave her ideas. “Right here is just fine.”

He nodded and suddenly, probably just remembering, leaned forward to open a desk drawer revealing a stash of condoms and lube. She grabbed a foil wrapper and rose, pivoting the chair further. Buccaneer looked like he wanted to question her, but couldn’t quite manage it. 

She knelt before him, watching his eyes grow wide at the sight. The button popped on his trousers easily and she slid his fly down slowly, her eyes fixed on his watching his pupils dilating as her fingers snaked into his trousers, wrapping around his already hard cock. She pumped him slowly, thumb circling his head before sliding down. Gentle fingers scratched over his balls to massage the sensitive place just behind them, squeezing softly and pulling a moan from his lips. 

The crinkle of the opening foil wrapper distracted him and she had to resist the urge to laugh at the look of confusion on his face when she put the tip of the condom in her mouth. Some of the girls (and guys) she worked with found naive and inexperienced clients frustrating, but they were often some of her favorites. Buccaneer especially was delightfully easy to please and she rolled the condom down his member with her lips, entertained by his startled gasps and groans.

He was rock hard, making rolling the condom on easy and she took him deep into her mouth. Fingers both flesh and metal tangled in her hair, and she pulled up, swirling her tongue around his tip before pulling him deeper again. It was a nice change not to have her head shoved down, or be choked by wildly thrusting hips, though he yanked hard on her hair making her eyes water. She wasn’t sure if he was watching them in the mirror or not as she sucked him, but it didn’t matter, his moans indicating he was enjoying himself immensely. The sensation of hot fluid filling latex was a familiar signal and she pulled slowly off the slackening member to sit back and watch its panting owner slowly opening his eyes.

“You like that, Big Guy?” He nodded, and she rose to kiss him, whispering against his mouth, “think of it as a preview of the fun we’ll have later.”

“Later?”

“Well, you have VIPs to entertain first, don’t you?” And she wasn’t keen on taking her panties off at this point in the evening, not when there was a chance of not getting them back.

“Oh, right.” 

She stepped back to let him collect himself, familiarizing herself with the office for future reference. “Have you ever thought of putting a rug in here?”  

“Huh?”

“You know, one of those big fluffy faux-fur ones? Makes having a romp on the floor a lot more fun.” And would protect her knees if giving him head became a regular thing, not that she would ever mention it to a client.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it. I might have to look into it, though.” The half-bashful, half-coy smile on his face had her smiling in response.

“It’s a nice space, don’t get me wrong, it’s just nice to have some variety, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” He got to his feet and followed her meandering path around the office, “I guess I haven’t really considered all the possibilities.”

“Well, you’d better start considering, Big Guy, because the possibilities are endless.”

He opened his mouth, cheeks pinking, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Yes?”

The pineapple-esque security guard poked his head in cautiously, “guests are starting to arrive. I thought you might want to head up to the loft now.”

“Thanks, Miles, we’ll be right there.” Miles nodded and retracted his head from the doorway. Buccaneer held a hand out to her, “ready?”

“Always,” she flashed him her most dazzling smile and took his hand. He led her out of the office and through the half-full club. The pulsing lights and booming music were startling after the quiet of his office; it must have been well soundproofed. Another suited man with an earpiece in opened a velvet rope for them and they headed up a metal staircase to the luxurious VIP loft.

She was secretly relieved when she didn’t recognize any of the people Buccaneer was casually greeting. It was inevitable to run into other clients while working, but she preferred to prolong the awkwardness with a new client for as long as possible. She leaned against him, draping an arm around him and squeezing his backside. He let out a startled yelp and she winked at the man he was talking to. The man laughed, but his eyes were fixed on her breasts. 

She smiled and twisted her body against Buccaneer’s, sequined dress glittering in the blue light of the loft and reminding everyone who was lucky enough to have a sexy woman at their side and instilling jealousy in the group. Buccaneer settled himself on a blue velvet sofa that overlooked the now crowded dance floor, and chatted with the others in the loft. Olivier draped herself over him, declining the glass of alcohol that came her way. The idle chitchat of the VIPs bored her, but she focused on her job, running a hand over Buccaneer’s chest, or else squeezing his thigh, and periodically adjusting her pose to highlight some other part of her body. 

“Listen, man,” another man settled himself on the sofa next to Buccaneer, “no offense to the girl, but I don’t talk business with unknowns so-” he tilted his head meaningfully. 

Discretion was one of the fundamental tenets of work at Madame Lust’s, but Olivier smiled graciously and rose, sauntering away with a backward smile. She found the furthest corner from the pair and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and wondering how long their private conversation would be.

“Everything alright?”

She jumped at the lilting voice in her ear and turned to find Miles had materialized seemingly out of nowhere. “Someone wanted to talk to Buccaneer sans escort.”

“Gotcha,” he extended a hand, “I’m Miles, by the way, Buccaneer’s head of security.”

“Olivier.” She took his hand and shook it, tilting her head back toward Buccaneer, “a bodyguard, huh? Seems it should be the other way around.”

A thin smile crossed his face, “it does a bit, doesn’t it?”  

She gave him a thoughtful onceover, he was tense, seemingly wary rather than angry, but still it would be better to keep him on her good side. “Ex-military?” It was a guess, but not much of one; she had met a lot of bodyguards in her line of work.

“Special forces, yes.”

“Ah.” A questioning brow rose above the man’s dark glasses and she went on, “a person’s security can tell you a lot about them.”

“Oh?” 

He was curious in spite of himself and she suppressed a grin. “Buccaneer doesn’t do things by halves. Ex-special forces, Madame Lust’s services? It’s no wonder Fort Briggs is doing so well.”

“Indeed, he’s a talented businessman.” There was a note of pride and something else besides in the man’s answer. 

“He’s a good boss?”

“The best.”

She nodded. It was always good to get an insider’s opinion to help boister her own feelings about a client. “Any tips on keeping him happy?”

“Huh?”

“Even whores who sign away their rights to not being beaten try to avoid it.”

He flinched at her blunt wording. “He’s not that kind of person! He’d sooner take a beating than raise a hand to a wo-anyone.”

“Good to know,” she pushed off the wall and nodded toward the man now leaving Buccaneer’s side, “looks like it’s time for me to get back to work. See you around, doll.”

Dark glasses or not, she could feel his eyes burning into her as she sashayed back to Buccaneer’s side. _ Interesting. _

\---

“Everyone out?” Miles didn’t look up from the bundles of cash and receipts he was counting, but could practically feel Scar’s slow nod.

“Everyone but you and the boss.” The Ishvalan leaned on the counter, watching him. “Don’t you usually do that in the office?” 

“He has company.”

“Right, I forgot.” 

Miles nodded, wrapping a rubberband around the last pile. “You can go ahead and head out if you want. I don’t know how long they’ll be.”

“It’s alright. Not much point in hurrying now that Mei’s back at school.”

“Oh, right. She’s at that fancy boarding school, right? Does she like it?”

“She does. My wallet doesn’t.”

Miles chuckled, “that’s kids for you.”

“Since you know so much about it.” He sounded gruff, but there was no malice in it. He tilted his head toward the office door. “Gotta wait ‘til they finish?”

“You  _ know _ how that sounds, don’t you?”

“Huh? Oh!” 

Miles laughed at the faint dusting of pink on the other man’s cheeks. “If you didn’t have a kid I’d think-”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Tell me you’re at least dating now that Mei’s out of the house.”

Scar snorted, “again, since you know so much about it.” 

“You know I haven’t got the time for a relationship right now.”

“You could always take a page out of Buccaneer’s book and hire a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Whatever.”

It was Miles’ turn to snort. “We can’t all write an escort off as a business expense.” 

“True. Besides, the idea is a bit-” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve made many errors in my time, done plenty Ishvala wouldn’t approve of, but it seems unnatural.”

“It’s sex. What could be more natural?”

Scar’s grimace accentuated the feature for which he was named. “Just seems cheap is all.”

“Well, I can assure you she isn’t.” Miles grinned easily, as Scar opened his mouth to protest “I know, I know, that isn’t what you meant. But you don’t have to have sex with her, problem solved.”

Scar grunted an acknowledgment and glanced at his watch. “Any idea how much longer it’ll be?”

“No, but go on home. I’ll be fine waiting for him. Them.”

A staredown from Scar could melt almost any man, but Miles held his ground, crossing his arms and staring back. “Alright. But, for Ishvala’s sake, do us all a favor and don’t sit around moping all night.” The flip off he received in reply, he suspected,  _ was _ deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please do let me know what you think.


	3. Solaris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies!
> 
> Here is some quality smut, er, content for y'all. ;)

Another frustrating job for Raven completed, Olivier made her way into the brothel and straight for Solaris’ office. The madame smiled at the sight of her, not in the least bothered by her angry scowl. 

“Lock the door, my dear, unless-” red lips turned up in a smirk, “-you’d rather be interrupted.” 

“Not today,” Olivier closed and locked the door behind her, “Raven was especially useless.”

“Come tell me about it,” Solaris rose and tutted as Olivier reached to take off the now-rumpled blouse that allowed Raven to live out his fantasy of having a slutty personal assistant, gently pushing her hands away and undoing the blouse herself. 

Olivier wrapped her arms around Solaris’ neck, kissing her with bruising intensity. The madame returned the kiss for only a moment, before pushing her away. She frowned, opening her mouth to protest and finding a slender finger pressed to her lips, “humor me, my dear, and I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Olivier nodded, relaxing slightly. Solaris pushed the blouse off Olivier’s shoulders and tossed it aside, followed by her bra, placing kisses along her breastbone and between her breasts. Olivier found herself backed against the wall as Solaris kissed and sucked her breast, thumb of her hand circling the other neglected nipple. It was nice, for once not having to take charge, or else submit herself to uncaring unstimulating treatment. She supposed in most jobs it would be frowned on, if not outright taboo, to let oneself be fucked by one’s boss, but untold pleasure was just one of the perks of working for Solaris.

Said boss was working her way down, hands stroking softly down her sides, sliding her stockings and skirt down her legs, letting Olivier stabilize herself on her shoulders as she stepped out of her shoes, skirt and stockings. Solaris kissed her ankle gently, and slid her hands back up smooth legs. More kisses were pressed to the insides of her thighs, hands skirting around where Olivier wanted them most. When they did finally touch her, the lace panties made the soft touch infuriatingly gentle. 

Olivier groaned and shifted to grind against Solaris, but the hand was pulled away and her thigh softly smacked. “Oh come on!”

“Not yet,” Solaris rose, a glint in her dark eyes, “I still have a promise to keep.” A firm grip on her upper arm guided a willing Olivier to stand before Solaris’ desk. “Bend over, my darling” the madame instructed, smirking as the other woman complied. A solitary finger hooked in the back of her panties and pulled them down, careful not to brush against skin, however much Olivier wiggled toward her, and stopped it’s journey partway down her thighs. “Fuck, I have half a mind to sit here and just look at you.”

“You’d better not,” Olivier grit out, earning a throaty chuckle. 

A hand patted her backside softly and withdrew. The following pause lasted long enough that Olivier was on the verge of making another annoyed comment, but before she could Solaris’ hand came down on her cheek with a resounding smack. She jumped slightly at the sudden sting, and Solaris tutted before slapping the other cheek just as hard. Several more slaps rained down in rapid succession before Solaris slid a finger over her folds. 

“You’re nice and wet now, aren’t you?” Solaris positively cooed, chuckling when her light touch had Olivier straining to follow her retreating finger. “You think I’m going to give it to you that easily?” Two more quick slaps punctuated her point. “Now, I think I asked you to tell me about your day?” 

“Right, what do you-” Olivier broke off, groaning as Solaris smacked her ass again.

“Tell me, how did your job begin?”

“I-oh!” She yelped when another smack landed on her surely bright red backside.

“Go on,” Solaris instructed calmly, rubbing away the sting. 

“When I got there, he wanted lap dances for all his grabby friends and--ah!” A sharp slap diverted her attention.

“Keep going.”

“Right, so I gave them all lap dances and that took a while. They were all pinching and-ow!-” this time she knew better than to stop talking “-ugh, just gross old men. And-ahh-you know how Raven gets off on humiliation? He-oh!” she groaned as Solaris once again rubbed her folds, circling her clit for a moment, “-had this brilliant idea, to have me pretend to be his assistant, serve tea and everything! In the nude.” 

“I can’t say I blame him, you’re a sight.” Solaris cooed, stroking her backside softly, letting some of the heat die down. “And then?”

“Then his meeting was over, we had a quick fuck and time was up so I got dressed and came back.”

“So, he didn’t, how did you put it? ‘Light your ass up’ this time?”

“No, he didn’t have the time.”

“Good! I don’t have to go easy on your ass.” A desk drawer slid open and Olivier twisted to try and see behind her. Solaris slapped her backside again. “I didn’t say you could get up.” As soon as the madame was sure she wasn’t going to argue, she went on, “now, what should I use, hmm?” 

Olivier said nothing, biting her lip and waiting to see if Solaris would let her know what implement exactly she was going to use, or if she was going to let her stew and wonder. While she rarely enjoyed this type of play with clients--at least on this end of it--Solaris was both skillful and trustworthy, and she was perfectly happy to be bent over for her. 

The leather tip of a riding crop tickled her thigh and she shivered. It slid slowly down, catching the panties still on her thighs and pushing them until they dropped to the ground. The tip tapped gently on her thighs until she spread them further, shifting until the crop was withdrawn. After a moment it was back, stroking ever so softly across her swollen clit and making her moan. 

The crack of the crop was calculated for sound more than pain, its mark sure to fade quickly, but stinging and eliciting a yelp all the same. Almost immediately, Solaris’s hand slid across her backside, nimble fingers dipping down to stroke her core. Olivier shivered.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, my dear?”

She huffed a laugh, her breath fogging the glossy surface of the desk. “Only all the time.”

“Not often enough,” Solaris brushed her hair off her neck, kissing it gently, “but I’ll make it up to you.”

The urge to be sarcastic rose up in Olivier again, but before she could say anything, Solarias withdrew and the crop was back with a stinging slap against her backside. There was a rhythm to the strikes that followed, a soft strike across the top of her cheeks followed by a much harder one at the very top of her thighs, a soothing rub over the spot of her latest strike, an inflaming one over her clit. Olivier was melting into the desk, pain and pleasure mingling in a way that made her heady with desire. 

“Tell me, my dear-” Solaris murmured as she leaned over Olivier, one finger sliding into her as another stroked her swollen clit, “-have you been taking care of yourself?”

Olivier blinked slowly back into awareness, noticing she was drooling slightly. Embarrassing. “What-?”

Solaris’ chuckle was low and throaty. “You’re not up for questions right now, I understand.” 

The whine that escaped Olivier’s lips as the fingers were withdrawn earned her a soft swat on already stinging skin, but she couldn’t complain when she heard the distinctive pulling of straps behind her. Solaris teased her clit for another moment before the thick member pushed into her. The steady rhythm of thrusts and fingers swirling her clit combined with the press of Solaris’ hips against her had her gasping and moaning. The world grew increasingly distant with each thrust, and she was shivering, waves of heat tingling through her. 

“That’s my girl,” Solaris murmured in between pants of her own, “so good.”

Olivier’s response wasn’t nearly as articulate; more of a drawn-out moan than anything. Solaris didn’t let up when Olivier went stiff beneath her, or when she began to tremble, whimpering and moaning through her orgasm. The edge of the desk bit into her hips as Solaris slumped over her, but she recovered quickly and pushed herself off. Olivier groaned as the unforgiving member was pulled out. She could dimly hear Solaris removing the harness, gasping softly at the lost contact.

“Alright, come here darling.” Solaris eased her off the desk and guided her to the sofa. “Been a while, hmm?” She chuckled as Olivier flopped limply onto the cushions, blinking the haze away from her eyes. The madame climbed onto the sofa behind her, wrapped her arms around her and smiling at the contrast of her black silk gown against her lover’s bare skin. “None of your clients up to your standards?”

“It isn’t-” Olivier exhaled slowly, not missing the hand sliding softly over her stomach and down her abdomen. “You-”

“I worry when my girls aren’t having fun.”

“I have fun.” She shifted, spreading her thighs slightly as Solaris’ gentle fingers dipped lower. 

“So much fun you can’t even get off?” 

“Sol-” Olivier twisted her head back to kiss her, breath quickening as Solaris tugged gently on her folds, “-I’m fine.”    

“I just need to be sure.” She sounded incredibly serious for someone smirking into a kiss, teasing Olivier’s clit and pinching a nipple at the same time. “Everything going well with your new client?”

There was nothing subtle about the spread of her legs anymore. Her spine arched as Solaris tapped against her swollen nub. “Y-yes. He’s still shy, likes me to take the lead.”

“Just like how you like me to-” Solaris slid a finger into her core, leaning down to whisper in her ear “-take charge of our encounters?”

“Not my fault,” Olivier groaned, foot slipping off the sofa as she grappled to maximize contact with the madame’s body, exposing more of her neck to her kisses “you’d make a terrible sub.”

Solaris pulled her closer, finger curving and thumb circling her clit, “I suppose you’re right.” She quickened her pace, tightening her grip as Olivier writhed in her arms. “You’re not going anywhere, my dear. You’re staying right here and cuming for me.”

“A-again.”

“Hmm?” Solaris nipped her neck, careful not to leave a lasting mark, however tempting it might have been.

“Cum again, you mean.”

 “Are we counting?”

“N-no, I- _ ohh. _ ”

“Shh,” Solaris kissed her softly as she moaned, the world fading in a white heat. “I’ve got you, darling, I’ve got you.”

\---

Buccaneer fidgeted with his lit cigar; he wasn’t much of a smoker, but like booze and girls, cigars were an expected part of the business deal in North City. He’d brought out a good whiskey for this meeting, too, though it wasn’t all that necessary to impress Roy Mustang. Madame Christmas, and by extension her nephew, was one of only a few competitors he was on truly good terms with. Technically, the club and her brothel bar were in competition, but in practicality they attracted entirely different clientele. 

Roy took a drag of his cigar, and scarcely glanced at Olivier who Buccaneer had hired for the night’s entertainment, before turning to him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Drugs,” he admitted, “I don’t care if people want to smoke a joint or whatever, hell I don’t care if a few kids want to sneak something harder in the bathroom, but someone’s been dealing on the property and I want it stopped.”

Roy raised an eyebrow, “you’d rather promote your own product?”

He shook his head, “no, I’d rather not have people ODing on my dance floor.”

“Fort Briggs is technically in no-man’s land, last I heard,” Roy was nodding thoughtfully, absently watching Olivier twirling expertly around the pole, “there’s a few groups that might be interested in expanding territory. What specifically are you dealing with?”

“Some of the usual, cocaine especially, but something new, too. Called the Philosopher’s Stone-” 

There was a thump and a snap, and Olivier wobbled on her platform, grabbing the pole for support. Practically raised in his aunt’s brothel, Roy was on his feet steadying her before Buccaneer had time to process what had happened.

“Sorry. Broke a heel,” Olivier explained, gesturing to the now useless stiletto, while trying to balance on one foot. 

“That’s what you get for wearing knockoffs,” Roy chided, unbuckling the shoe with an ease that Buccaneer suspected came from much practice, “doesn’t Sol-”

“I’ve got it,” Olivier cut him off, pulling away and reaching to unbuckle the other shoe. She looked very much like she wanted to smack Roy with it. 

“Whatever you say, Livvie.” He smiled at her furious glower and dropped back into his seat. Buccaneer wondered suddenly if Olivier had ever worked for Chris Mustang. “Anyway, I know what you’re talking about, but I’m not sure who deals it. I’ll ask around and see what I can figure out.”

“Thanks,” if anyone could figure it out, it would be Christmas’ network of girls.

“Do you want anything set up or just to know?”

“I think I’ll wait and see who it is,” Buccaneer decided, “and go from there.”

“Good idea,” Roy nodded, taking a swig of whiskey and watching the now-barefoot Olivier dropping yet more clothing easily off her body. “I have a feeling whoever it is, isn’t going to be easy to get them to back off your turf, not unless you’re willing to drop a good bit of money on it.”

“I figured as much.” Buccaneer was distracted for a minute as Olivier shed her bralette, breasts bare, save for the glittering disks covering her nipples, bouncing enticingly. “I hope that having ex-special forces on my side will help, but against some of the gangs coming up from Central I doubt it.”

Roy nodded, eyes following Olivier through an inversion on the pole. “North City is one of the easiest places to move product without interference from the feds--if you’re into that business--but the competition is the most cutthroat.”

“Which is why I’d appreciate your-” Buccaneer froze for a second as Olivier swung gracefully off the pole and crossed to drape herself over his lap in two quick strides, “-uh, discretion.”

Roy’s lips twitched, but he nodded again. “Of course. If there’s nothing else, I need to return to Christmas’ and it looks like you need to finish up your business here.”

Buccaneer’s embarrassment didn’t stop the nearly-naked woman from straddling him even before Roy was fully out of the room. She kissed him deeply and his eyes fluttered shut. “You’re going to do me in one of these days.”

“Oh?” She was smiling, he could tell. 

“How do you do it?” She froze, fingers that had been caressing his cheek stilled, and there was silence for a moment. He opened his eyes. 

She blinked and tilted her head, sly half-smile playing about her lips. “What? Drive you wild?”

“No, I-” he shook his head, “-nevermind. It’s none of my business.” Her mouth was twisted as though she were thinking of asking what he meant, but he kissed her and she took the hint, moving against him again. His hands slid over her silky skin, curves full and perfect under his large hands. 

Deft fingers went to his waist, undoing his belt and fly swiftly. He fumbled to get the condom out of his pocket and she took it from him, rolling it onto him with ease. He gripped her hips as she rose up over him, moving her tiny thong out of the way and lining herself up over his throbbing erection. 

She smirked at him suddenly. “Are you ready?”

He nodded eagerly and she chuckled before dropping down onto him in one swift movement. He groaned, squeezing her hips tighter as she rocked, adjusting to his girth. The sound of their flesh smacking together was almost obscene as she rode him hard. Not hard enough, though, and his grip became bruising in its intensity as he guided her to increase the combined speed and force of their thrusts. Her fist clenching around his braid, making his eyes water, and the sight of her breasts bouncing in time to his thrusts pushed him over the edge faster than he would normally admit to. 

“Well, well, Big Guy.” She was smirking though he wasn’t sure how because they were both panting. “Enjoy yourself?”

“You know I did.” He grinned from ear to ear and she laughed softly. The buzzing of a phone made them both jump. Buccaneer grabbed it off the sidetable. “Oh, that’s my alarm. The staff will be arriving soon.”

“Ah, perhaps we should move somewhere less conspicuous?” 

He nodded. “Putting a pole in my office feels a little...odd to me, but having to do my deals in the loft is less than ideal.”

“You don’t enjoy putting on a show for the club?” Her eyes were twinkling in amusement as she pulled off of him and stood up, leaving his softening member exposed. He blushed and she turned away to gather her dropped clothing, letting him clean up in relative privacy.

“I didn’t think you’d want to be on display for the whole club.” She hesitated for a moment, and while he appreciated the view of her bent over to collect her shirt, he was curious. “Unless that’s something you were interested in?” 

She straightened and smiled over her shoulder at him. “It’s whatever  _ you  _ want, Big Guy.” He opened his mouth but she kept going. “Which reminds me, do you have any ideas on what you’re interested in experimenting with, going forward?” 

“Now,  _ that  _ is the type of business we should discuss in my office.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts!


	4. Pinks and Purples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, I have another chapter for you!

“What time is the Big Guy supposed to get here, again?” 

Solaris paused in dabbing makeup over the sizeable bruise on Olivier’s face to raise an eyebrow at her. For a moment, it looked as though she wasn’t even sure what question to ask, but she settled on “are you sure you don’t want me to cancel his appointment?”

Olivier waved a dismissive hand, “if I cancelled after every time a client roughed me up-”

Solaris caught the waving hand and fixed her with a steely look. “You’re not covering for any line-crossers, are you? You  _ know  _ I don’t tolerate that kind of behavior.”

“Of course not! I have some self-respect still, and even if I didn’t I’m not letting those fuckers near the other girls.” 

“Good.” Solaris kissed her bruised knuckles and then released her hand, returning to her careful cover-up job. “Your appointment is in thirty minutes, but you’re domming today so he can wait and it’ll be fine. I have you set up in the Liberty Room.”

“Is the equipment all ready to go?”

“As always.” Solaris stepped back to survey her handiwork and frowned. “I’ll have the lights dimmed.”

Olivier nodded, reaching up to touch her face and then thinking better of it. “I have thirty minutes?”

“You do. You sure you’re okay?”

“You’ll see to it that Gardner can’t hire another escort in this town?” At Solaris’ nod, she rose from the velvet sofa, grabbing her robe. “Then I’m fine.”

It was cold on the rooftop, even with the fluffy robe pulled tight around her body. The painkillers were kicking in, but her face still stung. She was no stranger to pain, but the clients weren’t supposed to leave marks. Her fingernails dug into her palms, leaving marks of their own, but she was already planning to don fingerless gloves to mask where her knuckles had split. She was fortunate, she supposed, that Gardner hadn’t called the police when she’d struck him back. It wouldn’t matter to them that he’d hit her first; she was a whore and he was a businessman, but Solaris, like all Madames, had her ways of making problems go away.

No respectable service would take Gardner as a client now, but that still left plenty of choices for him. Places and pimps who wouldn’t care when he bruised their workers or worse. It was brutal and unfair and there was nothing in the world she could do. She tilted her head back and watched her breath puff out above her. She was itching for a smoke, but she’d quit ages ago and vowed never to start again. 

She drew a steadying breath and made her way back inside. It wouldn’t do to greet her client with ice cold skin and make him uncomfortable. The Liberty Room was designed for a client exactly like Buccaneer. It had the gear necessary for experimentation and stepping out of one’s comfort zone, but it was warm and cozy, subtle, so as not to overwhelm the way some of the more obviously kink oriented rooms could. 

Olivier settled herself on the low purple ottoman and waited. Black leather and lace made up her outfit, evocative of a true dominatrix but softened for her first-time sub. Honestly, she was glad she wasn’t responsible for her own lingerie, she would never think of these things on her own. 

The door opening startled her out of her thoughtful revere. At the sight of Buccaneer skulking into the room, his face vibrant with a pink blush, she had to suppress a smile.  

“Well, Big Guy, are you ready to have your mind blown?”

The flush on his face darkened, but he grinned. “I think I am.”

She rose swiftly, assuming a domineering stance that ignored their massive size difference. “So, why are you still standing there?” She chuckled at the way he floundered, casting around for what she wanted him to do. “Come here,” she put her foot up on the ottoman. “Sit.” He hurried to obey, and she leaned in, watching his pupils dilate. “Now, remember, tonight is all about you. Anything you don’t like, all you have to do is use your safe word. Did you pick one?”

He nodded. She raised her eyebrows in question and he became somehow more mortified. “Oh. I was thinking crocodile, like the automail, you know?”

She stifled a snort. “As long as you can remember it and you wouldn’t otherwise say it during sex, that’s good.” He nodded again and she reached for the front of his shirt, tugging it open easily. The pounding of his heart was strong enough to feel readily even through her gloves. “We can go as slow as you want, Big Guy, there’s no rush.”

“I know,” his reply was rapid, but his expression was serious. 

“Alright, then.” She dropped onto the chair opposite the ottoman and crossed her arms and legs. “Undress.”

Buc was momentarily startled, but at the arch of her brow, hastened to obey. His shirt dropped to the floor readily, and he kicked off his shoes before rising to undo his trousers. She was struck by how truly massive he was as he towered over her, bashfully undressing. Still, when she commanded him to go to the bed and lay down, he obeyed.

“Close your eyes,” she instructed as she opened the sleek black dresser and began pulling out the gear Solaris had assembled for her. She could blindfold him, even restrain him, if she wanted, he had agreed to those things, but she sensed it wasn’t really what he was after. Her fingers wrapped around the harness and dildo she’d picked. The request had been tentative, framed as a part of a broader interest in BDSM, but she was certain his real objective was anal.

A flair of annoyance shot through her as she pulled the harness out and realized Solaris had switched the basic harness she’d requested for one with a little vibrator that would press against her clit and was the Madame’s less than subtle attempt to ensure she was taking care of herself. Well, she wouldn’t turn it on and that would be that. She slipped the harness on and adjusted it, put a condom over the dildo, pulled black latex gloves on, and grabbed the bottle of lube.

Buccaneer was still laying patiently on the bed with his eyes closed when she clambered up and settled herself over his legs. She patted his backside and he shivered. “What do you think, Big Guy? Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

She chuckled, but his body was tense. Best relax him a bit first, so she began gently massaging his upper legs, backside, and thighs. Slowly, the tension began to fade out of him and she began gently spreading his thighs and working closer to his entrance. 

“Alright,” she gave his thigh a gentle smack, “better get that ass up in the air for me.” He obeyed, bracing himself on his knees and elbows. “Good job. Need any pillows to prop up?”

“No,” he grunted, “I’m good.”

“You sure? It doesn’t mean a thing if you do.”

“I’m sure.” 

“Let me know if you change your mind, okay?” At his grunting response, she squeezed a glob of lube onto her left palm and began coating her artificial member. With her clean, gloved, right hand she reached between his thighs to gently tickle his balls. He bucked in response, nerves or pleasure, she wasn’t sure. Carefully, she squeezed lube onto her right hand, rubbing her hands together to try and warm it up, knowing that with the gloves it wasn’t really going to work. 

A sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper escaped him as she massaged the tense muscles of his opening. He was good looking, she supposed, even with her gloved finger in his ass, but Olivier was already mentally detaching from the situation. It wasn’t personal, just a natural part of the process for her. She moved through the motions, fucking him first with her fingers and then with the synthetic member, other hand reaching beneath to help him get off, her mind fully disengaged from her body.

“How do you feel, Big Guy?” She asked when he collapsed, moaning in a puddle of his own fluids.

Said Big Guy’s only response was a garbled sound of pleasure and a hand grabbing hers. She winced as he pulled her hand down and kissed it, not because the gesture was painful but because it was kind. Intimacy, real honest intimacy, was something she avoided with clients. And, frankly, non-clients, too, if she was honest about her own personal life or lack there-of.

“Quite the rush, huh?” She patted his shoulder with her free hand.

“Mhmm.” He still didn’t release her hand, instead giving it another squeeze. 

A glance at the clock confirmed they still had plenty of time, so she conceded to lay half on top and half-beside him, knowing without having to ask, that he wasn’t up for any continued action. Time passed slowly for Olivier, her throbbing face pressed into his back and her aching hand trapped beneath his chin.

\---

Miles paced in the bodyguards’ lobby, crunching the empty paper cup from his complimentary coffee listlessly. He wasn’t nervous, but he wasn’t sure what he  _ was _ feeling. Buccaneer wasn’t in any danger, and he should have been doing what it seemed all other bodyguards did in exactly this situation: reading one of the books or magazines scattered around the lobby, watching tv, playing on his phone, or gossiping with the others in the lobby. Instead, he was stuck watching the clock and trying to make sense of the knot in his stomach.

If he was going to be honest with himself, he had a pretty good idea of what was bothering him, but that would require unpacking and examining things he had long kept suppressed. Rather than doing that he tossed his now-destroyed coffee cup in the trash rather more forcefully than necessary and forced himself to sit on one of the plushy chairs. He’d been fortunate thus far that he’d been alone, but if anyone else showed up he would need to have a handle on his anxious pacing. 

It was fortunate that he settled down when he did, because it wasn’t long before the door opened and one of the brothel’s drivers walked in. He was immediately recognizable on account of his uniform, but Miles also got the sense he’d seen the man somewhere before. Apparently unaware of Miles’ still presence in the corner, he slammed his hands on the table and let out a noise of frustration.

“You alright?”

The smaller man jumped, and turned running a rueful hand through the light brown waves of his hair. “Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

“No worries, I was doing something similar earlier.”

The man chuckled unamusedly, “you were cursing your very existence?”

Miles smiled in spite of himself, “not quite. I guess your day is going worse than mine, though.”

“You could say that, unless you also are having to deal with a client beating the hell out of your girls.”

“Your girls?”

He gave Miles another look over, “sorry, didn’t realize you weren’t one of ours. I drive a few of the girls, supposed to help keep them safe, but it doesn’t always work out. I suppose you’re a proper bodyguard, then?”

It didn’t seem malicious, so Miles smiled slightly in response. “And driver. And something of a general manager, too.”

The other man chuckled, “we get a lot of those.” He turned back to fix himself a cup of coffee, “need a cup?”

“Better not if I want to avoid being too amped to drive.”

“I’m screwed either way,” the man shrugged, stirring his coffee more vigorously than necessary. “Well, I’d better get back to having my ass handed to me by the Madame. It’s nice meeting you-?”

“Miles.” He rose and extended his hand. “Hope your day goes better.”

“Thanks,” his handshake was firm, “I’m Karley, by the way, hit me up if you need anything over here.”

Thankfully, it wasn’t long after Karley’s departure that the door opened again. A dazed looking Buccaneer was led in by Olivier. 

“Ready to head out, then?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Any other time, Miles would tease Buc for his blush and glazed over expression, but his eyes were caught by something else. The escort’s thick coat of makeup was smeared, not entirely unexpectedly, but the poor coverage revealed a purple bruise and blackening eye. 

Catching him looking, she turned away. “See you around, Big Guy.” And before Buc had more that grunted in response she was gone.

“Car’s just outside, we can go out the front or back, whichever you prefer.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, just can we take the elevator?”

Miles frowned in confusion, but then couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter when Buc took a bowlegged step forward. “Ishvala, you look like it was your first time doing anal or something.”

Buccaneer went from pink to crimson. “Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, I cherish any and all comments. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please do let me know what you think. Also, if you have any requests for different pairings/situations you can find me on [my tumblr](https://bydayandknight.tumblr.com).


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